Watching Her Brown Eyes
by NotreDamegirlie
Summary: I sit in a corner coffee shop, sipping at a latte and watching her brown eyes. Draco drinks coffee and finds love. Of course. DMHG
1. Watching Her Brown Eyes

I was told that love was merely something that would come and go, it didn't really exist. Love was just a whispered daydream, a young person's fantasy.

The morning is cool and clear, the sky overhead darkening with grey clouds. I sit in a corner coffee shop, sipping at a latte and watching her brown eyes.

They seem to laugh and dance, showing a different world from the one I'm living in. It's hard to hear what she's saying to that stuck-up celebrity and his dirt-poor sidekick munching on bagels and donuts.

Now the rain has started to fall, the steady pitter-patter on the tin roof.

The brown eyes slow their dancing and shift to a warm smile. I wish they'd smile at me.

The bagels and donuts are soon nothing but crumbs and the mugs of steaming coffee are emptied.

I'm watching them leave and wondering if it is possible for the heart to sink. I think it is.

Those brown eyes are going too, but the smile hasn't left yet.

The rain is drumming on the roof and those eyes, those beautiful eyes, somehow meet mine.

For some reason, a dull boom echoes near me until I realize it's the beating of my heart.

Those eyes are shining with something I don't recognize, but I have the feeling that mine show it too.

She waves off her friends and comes over to sit down and I'm afraid if my heart beats much louder, she'll hear it.

We talk about everything and nothing, just watching the other's eyes dance. I have forgotten the difference in blood lines, the rivalry with her friends, they don't matter. Not as much as she does.

My latte is long gone but I don't notice until my hand goes around the mug and it's cold.

Her hand isn't.

The rain has stopped, something I don't realize. Sunshine floods through the windows and door, lighting up her face.

We get up to leave. A last smile, a soft kiss, and she's gone until the next latte. Only the tinkling of the bell on the door is left and I remember something from an old movie;

_Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings._

I don't think I'm an angel, but I'm flying right now.

Watching her brown eyes, I can still feel the warmth of her hand in mine and I decide that love really does exist.

The End

Author's Note: The old movie is It's A Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. Nothing is mine except for the coffee shop, it's all Ms. Rowling. Oh, and the plot, of course.

I've thought about doing a sequel, I've had several requests, but I'm not really sure. If you do want one, let me know.


	2. Epilogue: The Next Latte

Author's Note: Okay, so I got a few more requests for a sequel. Unfortunately, the first draft was absolute crap. So I have a compromise; an epilogue. It's one of those things that I think of during a case of insomnia and then I'm like, "Oh, duh, why didn't you think of that before? What a moron." Anyway, here it is, the next latte.

_Epilogue_

I've always believed in happily-ever-after, no matter how often I was proved wrong. What the storybooks say, goes. But now I'm starting to doubt.

It's one of those icy winter days where snow crystals crunch under your feet and each breath is a warm cloud.

I'm walking around the park, waiting for the next latte and the happy ending that goes with it.

It won't come. Not with a father like that and two friends like these.

Snow is falling, tiny white snowflakes floating down from heaven. I think a few tears have too, but I'm as far from heaven as I can get.

I see a figure in the distance. Could it be him? No, it won't be.

The snow is coming faster and I'm really starting to want that latte. With extra cream and sugar.

I'm waiting for that happy ending too, but I won't take it without grey eyes and silvery-blond hair.

The figure is much closer now, and I can see grey eyes melting something inside me.

It's not him, it's just my imagination.

No, I was wrong.

Now he's next to me, snow caught in his hair.

There's a latte in his hand and I think it's for me.

We talk about everything, except what we need to hear most.

His hand goes in mine and he hands me the latte. He remembered the extra cream and sugar.

The snow has stopped and the world is quiet in a hush of white and peace.

There's a city behind us, somewhere, but all I see is him. Him and the steam rising from the coffee cup in my hand.

He didn't forget the happily-ever-after either.

The Very Last End

A.N. Oh, what a joy to be finished! If you didn't figure it out, it was the brown-eyed girl's POV and she's talking about our favorite Slytherin. (No, I don't mean Crabbe or Goyle.)

Disclaimer: All the wonderful Ms. Rowling's. Even the park isn't mine, I based it on Central Park in NYC.


	3. Afterword: Church Bells

Author's Note- I haven't the faintest idea why I'm doing this, adding another frickin chapter to this. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but no, my darling readers wanted more (okay, so all of two people). So this is the LAST chapter and if you beg me for more, I will swoop down and keeelllll you.

Just kidding.

_Afterword_

She's standing alone, at the end of a long path. Her brown eyes are taking in the empty benches. There's no one else there. Except the one who matters.

The room is cold, colder than the early spring day. Sun is peaking through the windows and casting a dim glow over her frozen hands.

He's watching her carefully, at his end of the long aisle. His stomach is fluttering nervously, but a smile appears, warming the cold room.

His grey eyes are fixed on her brown ones, and soon she walks toward him.

She's smiling now, happily. How he loves that smile.

Now she's standing next to him, and her icy fingers slip into his warm ones.

The church bells ring out and awaken the sleepy town with its joyful news.

Somebody's getting married.

The Very Very Very Last End!

Disclaimer: I do not own this, whatever gave you such a silly idea?

Author's Note: I love happy endings. –wipes away the non-existent tears-


End file.
